


Thunderstorms

by AbbodonAbandon



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Soichiro's A+ parenting, Thunderstorms, between the first and second arc, partial AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9869228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbodonAbandon/pseuds/AbbodonAbandon
Summary: Generic story where Light is afraid of thunderstorms and Matsuda comforts him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AU in that some things don't work out unless you disregard (small) parts of canon. Comment below (I'd appreciate some feedback).
> 
> Special thanks to Sybilius for looking over this for me :).

Thunder cracked as rain thrummed against the concrete wall. Matsuda sighed, leaning back in his chair as the second crumpled page of discarded case notes just skimmed the lip of the trash can. Across the room, still engulfed in his laptop, Light snorted.  
The two of them had been left all alone in the building, with Light’s father being ill, and Aizawa, Mogi, and Ide leaving for the night early. It had been a few days since any of them had gotten any time to themselves, with the task force work swallowing any hours they should have gotten off from their regular police work. While the others had quickly bowed out at Light’s gifting them the night off, Matsuda had elected to stay.  
Usually, when the task force worked, Matsuda would be the one sent on errands and generally shunted to the side of everything. But, with just him there working, Light would have to pay attention to him. At least a little. That’s what he had thought. But now, well…  
Light had spent most of the evening hunched over his laptop, growling at the screen. He had barely looked up once, even when Matsuda had offered to get him dinner in the then-light rain. Then, he had grunted affirmation at Matsuda.  
So, with even the weight of trying to impress Light breathing down his neck, Matsuda’s concentration and patience for work had quickly deteriorated into nothingness. All his mind could manage now was half-assed “cleanup” of their earlier scrapped notes. At least Light didn’t pay any attention to him as he did it; Matsuda doubted he could handle the embarrassment. A small part of his brain chimed in (rather nastily, he might add) that it wasn’t like Light had any image of him that would be marred by him slacking off. Matsuda shushed it.  
Returning to the “task” at hand, Matsuda glared at the paper laying resolutely by the plastic bin. The black ink stared at him mockingly. He sniffed, It wasn’t his fault he only had three good hours (maximum) of work in him.  
That avenue of excitement (if he could even call it that) exhausted, he swivelled his chair to look at Light. A small smile crept over Matsuda’s face. He never grew tired of watching Light at work. Everything he did was… enrapturing. The slight widening of his eyes, imperceptible to most, as he drank in new information, the way his fingers ghosted over the keyboard, quick and precise, and how his bright teeth punctured his lower lip, plumping it out as he amber eyes narrowed in concentration. A small sense of wonder always raced through his mind whenever Light did this (what could he be thinking?). A different, more pressing urge always seemed to accompany this.  
Matsuda gulped; Light was biting his lip now, and he could feel that same feeling pooling just under his stomach. He tried to shake it off; it was never fun feeling like that when he had to work.  
As he watched Light, he realized… something was off. Just a little. His shoulders hunched tighter than normal, and the flick of his eyes across the page felt more... harried.  
A particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled outside. Light tensed, a small hiss escaping him. The action was near minute, and he relaxed a second later, but Matsuda couldn’t miss it.  
Light was afraid of thunderstorms? Well, it wasn’t exactly like Matsuda had no of embarrassing fears (just last week he had toppled half of the equipment trying to escape from a rogue spider...).  
“It’s impolite to stare, you must know.” He jumped (only slightly) at Light’s voice. “Though, that doesn’t seem to ever deter you.” Light’s eyebrows cocked, pretty glass layered in his sneer.  
Crack! Like a gunshot, thunder split the air. Another thump accompanied it. Matsuda jumped. The power cut out.  
As the backup generator kicked on, spluttering low yellow light down on the two of them, Matsuda looked at Light. His laptop lay heaped on the floor.  
Light was shaking. His arms wrapped around himself as he hunched over.  
“Fuck!” Matsuda hissed. His feet stumbled under himself as he rushed forward.  
Air hissed from Light in short gasps. Matsuda was right beside Light. Now, he could hear his soft sobs. Water glimmered in Light’s eyes.  
“Fuck.” He was not equipped to deal with this. But... “Light?” He hoped to god Light could hear him.  
No answer. Except… Matsuda leaned in closer. Light’s lips were moving, fast and fervid and- “No no no please Dad NO!” The whimper burst into a scream.  
“Fuck!” What was he supposed to do? He reached out. Placed a hand on Light’s shoulder. Squeezed. Light tensed, then relaxed. Sat less taught than before.  
It worked? Tentatively, Matsuda ghosted the same hand down Light’s arm. Light didn’t flinch away.  
Taking that as a sign that it did indeed work, Matsuda rubbed his thumb across Light’s palm. It tremored against his skin. Not slowing. He would need to do more.  
Matsuda leaned forward, engulfing Light in his arms. It wasn’t until the wetness began to seep into Matsuda’s shirt that he noticed Light was crying. “No no no nooo Dad!” Still tumbled from his lips. What had Soichiro done to him?  
With a grunt (only slight; Light felt way too light for someone his height...) Matsuda shifted Light into his arms. Thunder cracked. “Nooo!” Light wailed. “Please don’t shoot.” His voice trailed to whimper. ...Oh.  
He needed to get Light somewhere quiet. What was it his Uncle always said about panic attacks? Breathing!  
“Light?” He didn’t answer. Of course not.  
Light’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and as Matsuda strained he caught shallow gasps. Focus; get him somewhere quiet.  
Hoisting Light airborne, he strode to the door. The quietest room was probably one of the bedrooms, as they were tucked near the center of the fortress. It seemed unlikely any of the thunder could reach there.  
Arms shivering slightly under the weight of Light, he pushed open the door into the hallway. The hall before him lay dark, the emptiness prickling his spine. He braved onward.  
Luckily, his room lay only a little ways away from the workroom. He shouldered open the door with little trouble (he never bothered to lock it). Shutting the door with his heel, he surveyed the room.  
To be frank, it was a mess. Days worth of clothes littered the floor, along with more case notes that had somehow made it to his space before being deemed unnecessary. At least his bed lay relatively clear.  
Now that the door was closed, he noticed that it did indeed block out the thunder. Already, Light’s shaking had stilled to little more than shivers.  
The biggest problem now was his breathing. The gasps were more audible now, in the quiet. Punctuating the dark.  
Matsuda sat Light up on the bed, facing him. His hands dropped to squeeze his knees, fingers kneading the semi-pliant flesh. “Light, I need you to look at me.” Light’s eyes, brilliant amber, remained unfocused. “Light.” His finger caressed the crook in Light’s arm, drifting to trace his pulse.  
A thought struck Matsuda. “That could work…” He murmured.  
Gently, he took one of Light’s hands and placed it over his heart. “Feel this, Light? I just need you to focus on it, ok? Will you do that for me?” Light didn’t answer, but the hand didn’t move from over his heart.  
As the moments bled together, Light’s breathing evened.  
His hand slackened from Matsuda’s chest. Fu- Oh! Light was asleep!  
Matsuda laughed, the sound bubbling out of him. He was more high strung than he thought.  
Sighing (oh god was he tired), he lay Light flat out on the bed, pulling the covers snugly to his chin. The tremors had stopped completely, and Light’s breathing had returned to normal.  
For a moment, Matsuda wondered if it was safe to leave him like this. But… Light needed the rest. He had been through enough.

Light woke to the heady scent of tea filtering into the room. It was dark, but he felt warm. Too warm, in fact, as he half-heartedly kicked at what must have been a blanket.  
The door swung open. “You’re up!” Matsuda held tea in his hands.  
A lazy smile stretched across Light’s face, even as curiosity tugged at the back of his mind. This wasn’t all bad, as things went. Sure, he felt worn and just a tad shaky, but the tea would feel so nice against his raw throat. Now, if only he could remember what had transpired last night… He had been working with Matsuda… there was a storm? And- No. Oh god no.  
Light looked up, half-praying to any higher being that he hadn’t- not in front of- the look of concern confirmed his worst fears. Some small part of his mind mumbled “At least it isn’t pity…” He ignored it.  
“I brought tea.” Matsuda weakly gestured at the two small cups laid out on the tray. Light didn’t speak. Seeming to shrug off the awkwardness, Matsuda bustled forward, laying the tray by Light’s feet.  
Light stared dazedly at it for a second, before pulling his legs into a sitting position. A small yelp escaped as something soft brushed against him.  
“You looked cold.” A small blush splashed across Matsuda’s face as he wrapped the blanket around Light.  
“Th-thanks.” Light whispered, thumb absentmindedly tugging at the blanket corner. He winced at how hoarse he sounded.  
Smiling expectantly, Matsuda lifted the tea towards Light. “I added honey. For your throat!” Light blinked, before taking the cup from him. Matsuda looked just like a puppy, too excited over too little, as Light took his first sip.  
Swallowing, he smiled and nodded. ‘It’s good.” He managed to get out. It only tasted ok; Matsuda was more suited to fetching beverages than to the actual act of creation. Nevertheless, Matsuda grinned at his sparse praise. Light snorted, all he needed now was a tail to wag. That might even be cute…  
The sudden interjection of Matsuda’s voice cut off Light’s train of thought. “What?” He whispered, throat still too raw to talk normally.  
Matsuda’s eyes looked warm. Pitying. Like he was helping at a hurt animal. “I was asking if you wanted to call someone Light. I mean, if you want I can get Misa for you-”  
“No, I’m fine.” She’d only make it worse. “I think I’ll just spend the night here; I’ve done it enough that one more night won’t matter.” He tried for a laugh. Only a broken rasp sputtered out. Nothing wanted to go his way tonight. At least Matsuda so far had the decency to ignore the... elephant in the room.  
“So, Light… Do you want to talk? About what happened back there?”  
Light’s eyebrow twitched. “No. Like I said, I’m fine.” Leave me alone. His tone bit out harsher than he had intended. Somehow, he still felt like he was holding back.  
For a moment, they sat in silence. Light didn’t meet Matsuda’s eyes. Matsuda breathed in, then said, “Y-you haven’t told anyone else about your, you know, have you?” Light briefly wondered if Matsuda had been replaced; surely he lacked the perception… A sudden, worse thought clawed to the front of his mind. What of he was really that transparent? He shook it off. Dwelling on that possibility would only bring pain.  
“What do you think?” Exhaustion weighed on him.  
Matsuda blinked, eyes wide and earnest. “Ohh, Light…” Tentatively, a hand reached out, then shied back. Matsuda’s fingers twitched, like he still wanted to touch Light. He sighed, and the hand slumped.  
Something pinged in Light’s chest. He sniffed; better Matsuda stop than contnue to test him. And that was most certainly not regret that he just felt. There was nothing to regret.  
”You know, there’s no reason to be ashamed of… all this. Despite what people think, this is completely normal and it doesn’t make you weak or defective or anything else. I mean, I have an Aunt, and she-”  
“Stop.” Enough. Something blurred the edges of Light’s vision.  
“Oh.” Matsuda sounded… sad. Disappointed. Good.  
“There is nothing to talk about.”  
Matsuda didn’t move again. Another silence passed as they both sat.  
“So… Are we done here?” He didn’t mean to sound so snippy (really), he just felt so tired…  
Matsuda flinched. “Yeah…”  
“Well?” Agitation corroded his nerves.  
“It’s, well, you’re kind of on my bed, Light, and it’s kinda really pouring out there and I do need a place to sleep.”  
“Oh. OH- I’ll move, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know-” Matsuda reached out a hand to hold Light down. Light didn’t flinch.  
“No, It’s fine. You’re sick and you can have it. I mean, your room’s pretty far away, right? I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself or anything… Anyways, I can just sleep on the couch outside.” Matsuda smiled. Sadness seeped through the cracks.  
“No.” Light’s voice rang softer than before. “You can stay.” It is his own bed, after all… Nothing to it. “The bed’s big, and there’s more than enough room for the two of us. And it’s still your bed.”  
A real smile split Matsuda’s face now. “Thanks!” He scooted in beside Light. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”  
A tired smile played up the corner of Light’s mouth. “Yeah, sure.” He huffed, turning to face the wall. It was only a bed. The warm, sighing weight behind him, still pressing close after somehow maneuvering itself (with many gratuitous “Sorry!”s) as far as possible from his back, meant nothing. It couldn’t.  
A sigh escaped him as he shifted more towards the wall. His eyes closed, the weight still somehow against him. The ghost of a warm feeling, the memory of arms wrapped tightly around himself, carried him off to sleep.


End file.
